Dreaming Darkness
by Ripki
Summary: “I’m so sorry Mel, so sorry.” Daley started to cry, but Melissa could only think, it had not happened like that.


Story title: Dreaming Darkness

Author: Ripki

Fandom: Flight 29 Down

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Warnings: AU, disturbing images

o

" – anyway, it was a long time coming. It's not as if they wanted me to live there anyway. Not really a surprise. So after that – Mel?"

The sun seared her. She felt like she was drenched in sweat. Too hot and too bright. She had to close her eyes from the explosive blaze of light, shutting away the world and Jackson standing in front of her.

"Mel? Are you alright?"

What had they been talking about? For one terrible moment she couldn't remember, her mind as blank as her sight. But before she had time to panic, her memories rushed back. Houses and homes and one foster home after another.

"Mel?!"

"No, I'm okay. Just – my mind strayed a bit. Sorry." She turned towards the ocean, trying to catch the coolness of sea breeze. The light reflected from the water, sparkled and gleamed, painted the waves silver and white.

"You're sure? You don't look so good. Maybe we should go back to camp."

She couldn't feel the wind. Just the oppressive heat all around her. Maybe Jackson was right and they should go back. A cooling shade would be heaven. It had been foolish to go walking at the hottest time of the day. But they had wanted to be left alone…

Melissa was just about to agree to head back, when the searing light faded to black. She felt herself falling. Somewhere far off someone was calling her name.

o

The impenetrable darkness faded into a dark canvas where shadows played. She was in the tent and it was stifling hot. Everything hurt.

"Did I fell?"

"Melissa!" Daley's face appeared above her.

"I think I fell." There was a nauseating smell in the stale air. It made her want to gag.

"Are you thirsty? I have some water here." Daley held a beat-up water bottle. She looked haggard.

"It's so hot in here. I want out." Melissa tried to rise, but the sudden sharp pain and Daley's hurried hands stopped her.

"Mel, you're too hurt, you have to lie down."

"I can lie down in the shelter." It would be cooler there. It had to be cooler there.

"Just – just rest here now okay? I'll leave the tent open."

She wanted to protest, but the darkness rushed in.

o

First there was the sound. Horrible earsplitting screeching.

Then there was the smell. Choking, thick and pungent. Something burning.

At last, there was the sight. Black smoke. A quick flash of silver, twisted and wrecked. An iron skeleton, burnt black.

Heat and cries for help and a flash of something half under the water.

o

She woke up gasping air. Coughing because there was dark, bitter thick smoke in her lungs. But no – it was just a dream, disjointed and disturbing. She was safe. She was back in the tent, and nothing was burning.

She hadn't been alone long, when Daley came in.

"You're awake!" Daley looked surprised. "You want water? There's some left."

"Okay." Her throat was dry and sore, and it was a relief when Daley carefully brought the bottle to her lips and lukewarm water trickled to her mouth.

"It's good that you're awake." Daley put her palm to Melissa's forehead. "You're still quite hot."

"Where's Jackson?" She wanted to see him, wanted to hear his voice.

"Who?" Daley frowned.

"Jackson!"

Daley looked puzzled. Melissa was starting to get frustrated. She didn't want to be joked about.

"Tall, plays guitar, crashed here with us, ring a bell?"

"You mean the new kid – why would he be here?"

"That's not funny!"

"Mel…" Daley smiled sadly. "Don't you remember? He couldn't leave for Palau, something about having to go to court – lucky for him."

"Stop joking! I want to see him."

"Mel, you're sick and confused. Rest now."

"Where's Jackson?" She could only whisper, her fear a suffocating block in her throat. "Has something happened to him?"

"Calm down, nothing has happened to him. He is better off than we are." Daley soothed.

"I want to see him."

"Mel…he's not here, remember?" Daley patted her arm. "Your fever has risen again. You'll have to rest, and tomorrow it'll be better."

"But – "

Outside, someone shouted.

"I have to go." Before disappearing from the tent, Daley turned back, her eyes huge and afraid, her voice pleading, "Just get better Mel. You have to get better."

o

Someone was calling her name, repeatedly.

She opened her eyes, and the sudden brightness made her head throb with sharp pain. A hazy form blocked some of the light and called her name again. Melissa realized that she was laying on her back, and Jackson was looking at her, panic in his eyes.

She was back at the beach.

"Melissa!"

"Ugh…" She felt disorientated and sick. She must have hit her head. None of it had been real. "Did I hit my head?"

"You just fell and I couldn't rouse you." He looked weary and worried. "You must have a sunstroke."

Sunstroke. That made sense.

"Can you walk? You have to get into shade."

He offered her a hand and Melissa tried to stand up, but her legs, weak and disobedient, shook violently and she sank back into the sand. Her whole body quivered from fatigue. She could smell rot. Something dark flashed in the corner of her eye.

"Do you smell that?"

"What?"

"That – rotting smell." It was nauseating. The air was so stale, there was no cooling wind, no wind at all.

"Here." Jackson pulled his t-shirt over his head and covered her head with it. "I'll go get help."

"No! Don't go." She didn't want to be left alone. Didn't want to dream again.

"You need water and I can't carry you by myself. I'll be real quick."

Melissa tried to protest, but her throat was too parched. Her pleading eyes made him hesitate for a moment. He stroked her cheek with his thumb.

"I have to go."

He went.

o

Black smoke, filling the sky. Eyes itching and watering and hard, so hard to breathe.

A twisted hull, an iron wreck.

Everything quiet, the complete absence of sound.

A flash of someone, half under the burning, flaming water.

o

When she came to, Daley was sitting beside her, a wet rag in her hand, mopping her forehead. Their shadows swayed as the canvas of the tent shook and rustled. A third shadow appeared, moved over them, disappeared.

"Who's that?"

"Shush…It's just Eric." It was dark and the air was stale, putrid. She coughed.

"I can't – can't stand this smell." She coughed again, her lungs dying for fresh, cool air. "What's this smell?"

"I tried to air the tent earlier. I'll do it again tomorrow."

"Do it now."

Daley was already shaking her head before she spoke, "The sun is going down. It'll be too cold."

"It's hot." The heat was sweltering, swelling all around her, closing in.

"You have a fever. Soon you'll be freezing."

"I have a sunstroke. I think I fell, earlier." Nothing made any sense. Had Jackson already gotten her help and they had carried her here? Or maybe she was still back at the beach. "I think I am dreaming now."

Daley continued to wipe Melissa's forehead silently.

"I'm dreaming now?" Somehow it came out as a question.

"You're awake now. I promise that you're awake." Daley sighed. "You're very sick Melissa, and sometimes you get confused, you forget. We were on our way to Palau, when our plane crashed in a storm."

"I know that. We waited but no one came and we made a camp. Me and you and Jackson, Nathan, Lex, Eric and Taylor. We built a shelter. And captain Russell, Jordy, Ian and Abby left to the other side of the island…to see if someone lives there. To get help."

Daley covered her mouth with her hand, but the sudden sharp sob had already been torn from her. She turned her head away.

"What's the matter?" Something terrible had happened; the feeling of wrongness was stronger than ever. "Daley?"

"I wish it had happened like that."

"What?"

"We don't have any shelter…we're lucky we could salvage this tent and a few of our bags from…the plane. The rest were – unusable. Ruined."

"No, we have – we rescued everything from the plane, intact!" She remembered everything – she remembered how they had built the shelter.

"Intact!" Daley's pupils were dilated, ink spreading over the color. "The plane broke in two. The rear sank and the front – it burned. Everything – they…" The bleak sorrow on her face was devastating to see.

"But I remember…" Daley's grief silenced Melissa's protests. "I don't remember that…"

"I'm not surprised. You've been really sick since…You were hurt in the crash." Daley's smile quivered. "But you're getting better. You're awake and lucid and soon you'll be…better."

"What's wrong with me?" The dull throbbing pain, her constant companion, became unbearable, piercing torture as she tried to move.

"Don't move!" Daley's hands hovered over her as if afraid to touch. "Melissa…your leg is – it's broken. I don't know, maybe – maybe your hip too. I couldn't – I couldn't set it. I didn't know – didn't want to make it worse."

That made sense. But – "What's this smell?" The almost sweet, suffocating smell of rot.

Daley dropped her gaze, her eyes focusing on something Melissa couldn't see. She didn't answer.

"Daley." She needed to know. If she couldn't remember, if everything was all different, all wrong, then she needed to know.

"It's an open wound. The bone…I tried to cover it, but we don't have any…" The smell was hers. Came from her. From her leg. An acid bile rose in her throat.

"I don't know what to do." Daley's voice was just a whisper.

She was rotting away. Dying.

"What about the others? Are they hurt?" She realized that she hadn't actually seen anybody besides Daley. "Were are they?"

"Oh…Eric is working so hard everyday to get us something to eat and Taylor…Taylor is looking after Lex. They're fine."

"What about Jackson? Nathan?"

"Jackson isn't here. I told you, he was lucky." Daley played with the rag, smoothing it out on her thigh, then pressing it against Melissa's forehead again.

She was disappointed, then felt immediately guilty for it. Jackson was safe. Safe and home and that was good.

"And the others…captain Russell, Jordy…Ian and Abby…" Daley struggled hard to get the words out. "Nathan – they're dead."

"No." It had not happened like that.

"I'm so sorry Mel, so sorry." Daley started to cry, but Melissa could only think, it had not happened like that.

o

It was hot, stifling hot. Sun blinding her, making her throb from head to toe.

She was standing, her sneakers half buried in the sand. Jackson was in front of her, saying, "They put me into another foster home after that."

He gave her a blinding smile, but something was wrong, something was missing. She couldn't remember what they had been talking about.

"Where are the others? Didn't you get help?" Hadn't she been laying down?

"Why?" He looked so carefree and happy. Her heart ached.

"Because I'm – I'm sick." She had to be sick. It didn't made any sense. "Sunstroke. I have a sunstroke."

"You're fine."

It was so hot it was hard to think. "Didn't I fell down?"

"No, I think I would have noticed if you had." He smiled to her, eyes teasing.

"You're not real, are you?"

He stepped close to her, stroked her cheek with his thumb. "Of course I am."

"It was all wrong. It didn't happen like that."

"It didn't. Of course it didn't." He wiped her tears away. "Don't think about it."

She was burning. "It's too hot."

"Let's go for a swim then." He took hold of her hand and tugged gently. "Come on."

Something dark flashed in the corner of her eye.

"Yes." She let him lead her away.

o

Fin.

**A/N**: I'm not sure I managed to do justice to the story that has been on my mind for over a year now, but I had to try. This story was also kind of a writing experiment: I wanted to try a sparser style, that was based on dialogue. I hoped that you enjoyed it, or if not, tell me what was wrong with it. Reviews are welcomed and cherished!


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